


And Every Wave Is Tidal

by thesaddestboner



Series: Octoporn [3]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Cheating, Crack, Curses, Detroit Red Wings, Magic, Octopi & Squid, Octoporn, Other, Passive-Aggressive Mocking, Tentacle Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-15
Updated: 2008-05-15
Packaged: 2017-11-22 04:42:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/605928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesaddestboner/pseuds/thesaddestboner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Octoporn melodrama!</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Every Wave Is Tidal

**Author's Note:**

> I got egged on by [**backcheck**](http://backcheck.livejournal.com/).
> 
> You can find me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/thesaddestboner) and [tumblr](http://saddestboner.tumblr.com).

> And every wave is tidal  
>  If you hang around  
>  You're going to get wet
> 
> \- “King’s Crossing (cover),” To Live & Die In LA

Mike Babcock sat on the Red Wings’ bench eating an apple and going through that day’s paper. He scanned articles about the flagging economy, read through a spread on Michigan’s spring football practices, and skimmed through the classified section. Page after page of houses for sale—it was almost enough to make a guy sad. Babcock wasn’t sad, though. His team had just swept the Colorado Avalanche. In fact, he was in cloud 9.

Babcock tossed the paper aside and stretched luxuriously. His team was on the fast-track to the Stanley Cup Finals. He couldn’t be bothered with trivial things like the economy.

Babcock glanced at the rafters, where Al the Octopus was hanging. “I owe this all to you,” Babcock said, pointing up to the thing. “If it weren’t for you, none of this would’ve happened.” Babcock paused. He wasn’t one to get sentimental. “Thanks, pal.”

The octopus swayed in response.

“It’s almost too bad that spell wore off,” he said. “I wish I could’ve gotten a chance to repay you.”

The octopus started to sway to and fro. Babcock paused yet again. Maybe Al could hear him after all.

“Maybe I can,” Babcock mused to himself. “Do you want me to grab Hank? He’s in the lockerroom.”

Al seemed to shake his massive head “No.” 

“What d’you want then?” Babcock asked. “A virgin sacrifice? I think Hudler’s still a virgin.”

Al shook his head again.

“Well, I dunno, you’re gonna have to give me something more to go on,” said Babcock. He felt ridiculous.

Al unfurled a tentacle—he was pointing right at Babcock!

“You want _me_?” Babcock asked.

Al seemed to nod.

“What do you want to—ugh—do to me?”

Al made a vulgar motion with his tentacle.

“Oh, hell no,” Babcock said, waving his arms. “No, no. No. Never, not in a million years.”

Al shook his tentacle at Babcock and made a rumbling noise that sounded almost threatening.

“Are you threatening me?” Babcock asked.

Al nodded.

Babcock dropped his head into his hands and groaned. Finally, he raised his head and glanced up at Al. “Okay. But just this once. And if you tell anyone I’ll kill you.”

Al vibrated with glee and flapped his tentacles.

Babcock sighed and stood to unbutton his pants. He wondered if he had enough lube for this.

*

Zetterberg was dressed in his finest suit and had actually gotten a haircut for the occasion—the occasion being his and Al’s one week anniversary. He had a rose pinned to the lapel of his suit coat and held an anniversary card nervously in his shaking hands.

He emerged from the lockerroom and paused—was that Barry White crooning from the arena’s PA system? Zetterberg’s blood chilled and he dropped the card as he broke into a sprint.

He burst into the bench area and gasped. Al was cheating on him—with his own coach!

Babcock was on his hands and knees on the ice, and Al was vigorously fucking him with a fat purple tentacle. Neither of them saw Zetterberg, or the exact moment his heart broke and his eyes began to flood with tears.

“You are the best fuckin’ octopus I’ve ever had,” Babcock grunted.

Al slapped his ass with a tentacle.

Zetterberg turned on his heel and fled, the rose coming unpinned from his lapel. It fell to the ground and was trampled underfoot as Zetterberg raced to the lockerroom and buried himself in his stall.

His life was over.

**Author's Note:**

> The author of this piece intends no insult, slander, or copyright infringement, and is not profiting from this work. This story is a complete work of fiction and does not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. This is for entertainment purposes only. If you found this story while Googling your name or the names of your friends, hit the back button now.


End file.
